Summary: A Charlie drabble inspired by Even the Best Cowboys and Charlie's abandoned religion. Spoilers within.
Disclaimer: LOST is not mine. More's the pity -- I'd love to find it in my stocking this Christmas, but one can't always have what one's wished for.
Charlie exploded into consciousness.
For one brief, terrifying moment he existed between past and present, watching ominous shadows whisping through trees out of the corners of his eyes while Kate held his hand and Jack cradled him in his arms.
He gasped in another anguished breath, heart pounding, lungs burning, and the moment passed. Everything hurt, but worst of all was the feeling that something had gone horribly, irretrievably wrong.
"You were dead," Kate sobbed, refusing to relinquish his hand, and Charlie felt as though he had just been painfully reborn.
Jack's tears fell on his face like a baptism.